


In Which Dave Strider Learns Exactly How Sharp Troll Teeth Can Be

by deitaru



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood, Bodyswap, Distractions, Good, Hugging, M/M, Masturbation, Meteorstuck, bros, do you know how hard it is, having to go pee sucks when youre an alien, i would know, okay, pizza rolls - Freeform, sharp teeth equals pain, theres actually not that much about pee i just thought it was funny, theyre the shit, to have to pee, we all got that, we're done talking about pee, yeah theres a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-20
Updated: 2013-06-20
Packaged: 2017-12-15 13:36:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/850137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deitaru/pseuds/deitaru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You were pretty close to your bro, Karkat. The two of you had bonded over the past few years stuck on the meteor hurtling through time and space so you had a pretty good connection with the guy.</p>
<p>Little did you know how close you were about to get.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Dave Strider Learns Exactly How Sharp Troll Teeth Can Be

You’d be lying if you said you’d known there was something off from the moment you opened your eyes. Yeah, your vision was a bit on the hazy, matte-coloring sort of side, but you attributed that to staying up late and the nightmares that really made even laying down in bed pointless. Getting far less than your regular, required amount of sleep was sure to have some side-affects, after all.

You just never thought that one of those would be waking up one morning wearing grey skin and fangs. 

Okay maybe “fangs” was a little overkill but these teeth were pretty sick regardless.

You’d experienced the old time movie cliché of walking to the bathroom in a sleepy stupor, turning to the bathroom mirror, and being greeted by someone that wasn’t you. Only it was… technically. Your finger made its way up into your mouth and yep, there was pain as your lower left canine pierced the oh-so-sensitive pad of your fingertip. The sharp tang of blood tapped the tip of your tongue and you pulled out the offending digit, staring down in disbelief as a dot of red beaded on grey skin. 

Grey skin.

Of course… this wasn’t to say that you didn’t actually recognize the face in the mirror… 

At first you’d thought your friend was standing behind you. The way your mind worked early in the morning sure was baffling, but that was quickly dismissed as Karkat’s- your- eyebrows twitched up and down in confusion. You’d even lifted a hand to steady them, silly as that might have seemed. And then your fingers travelled up a few inches, your heart pounding terrifyingly loudly in your chest as you rubbed hesitantly against the hard protrusions erupting from your skull. When a low hum trembled through your body you’d had to slam your hands down on the counter because your knees felt weak and you weren’t entirely sure whether to blame the sensation lingering in your fingertips or the fact that the whole thing was just starting to sink in.

Blinking rapidly you tried to calm your breathing, your breaths beginning to come much too fast, too shallow. 

In and out, Strider, you told yourself, but there was an overload of sensation coming from all directions and you weren’t sure which to address first: the fact that you could very well be a freaky troll-alien creature for the rest of your life, or the pressure in your bladder that reminded you of the fact that you did have a reason for entering this bathroom in the first place. 

You snickered lightly, remembering a few days ago when you’d pestered Karkat, asking if trolls ever had to pee. Apparently the answer was ‘yes’. Because you were a troll and you needed to take a piss and damn if you weren’t going to. 

You could figure out the long term effects of this situation in a minute, after you took care of what nature dictated you must.

You tugged at the hem of your boxers, nicking your skin lightly with sharp claws in the process. 

Dammit. 

Another small, red line of blood, stinging along your hip bone, prompted a half-exasperated hiss from between your lips, a hiss that came out much too cat-like for you to be anything less than disturbed by it. 

Enough horsing around though, you had to pee and good ol’ Niagra Falls wasn’t about to stop and wait for you to get this stupid crisis worked out in your head. 

Yanking down the fabric, you prepared yourself to take care of business, reaching down to…

\--That was not a penis.

Your hand stopped centimeters from a slowly undulating mass of flesh that closely resembled something you’d order at an expensive sushi bar. Or better yet, something plucked straight out of a schoolgirl tenta-hentai. 

It was red, curled up on itself, and moving. Subtly, of course… you were pretty sure if it had been squirming around in there this whole time you would have felt something, but this thing definitely seemed to have a life of its own. 

So this is what trolls have down in the nethers... 

It was freaky, creepy, and frankly a little terrifying. And yet… you were filled with a burning curiosity. So, slowly, your fingers crawled closer and you took great care with your claws, having learned firsthand how easily they could draw blood. This “dick” thing might be entirely foreign, but you were willing to bet that cutting it would hurt like a bitch. 

You weren’t sure what you had expected but the jolt of pleasure and corresponding breath of air that burst its way out of your lungs upon making contact with tentative fingers surely wasn’t high on that list. Neither was the way the appendage seemed to shiver along its own length. 

For a moment, you just stared in fear and fascination at your crotch and only when it calmed back down to what you assumed was a normal level of movement did you attempt touching it again. 

Another wave of pleasure, stronger than the first cascaded over you, your touch having grown marginally more confident, and even though you retreated just as quickly the member seemed to move more this time, as if it was expecting more stimulation. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, not willing or brave enough to watch as you brought your hand back, forcing yourself to stay and ride your fingers over the subtly textured flesh. Your other hand flew back up to grip the countertop tightly, knuckles white as your heart began to race and the blood rose under your cheekbone and what started out as a curious examination quickly turned into something more as the tentacle slowly wrapped itself around your hand, pulsing rapidly at your touch. 

You had no idea how you ended up on the floor, but that’s where you were when he walked in.

“Holy fucking shit!” Came the rough exclamation from the doorway and you sat up, pulling your hand away from the member in shame, mouth flying open and face going chalky as you floundered for an explanation. “Why the fuck am I touching myself in Dave’s bathroom?” 

He stood there, a look of pure and utter disgust on his face and for a moment you were confused. Why wasn’t he you? But it didn’t matter because he was turning to leave. You leapt up off the floor, all mobility regained after the shock wore off, and you barely had time to snatch up the discarded undergarments from the floor before you were running after him, one hand covering your crotch with the boxers. 

“Karkat, wait!” You called, but he didn’t turn around. 

“Nope. I don’t want to hear it. I’ve dealt with way too much idiocy from past and future me’s to even give one measly mothershitting hoofbeast’s ass right now. Just… ugh! Finish what you were doing or whatever before Dave wakes up.” 

“For the love of sweet Mary’s apple juice, please listen to me!” Your hand was around his wrist now and you held on tightly despite his attempts to shake you off. “I am Dave! I promise I just…” 

But there was no way to explain this without sounding like a loon. Honestly you weren’t even sure how you were managing to deal with all of it in the first place. It was so much, at once. And you needed a friend, plain and simple. 

Though… you figured that perhaps touching yourself while in said friend’s alien body wasn’t the best way to go about that… 

His eyebrow gave that familiar twitch as he finally turned to you, the disbelief in his eyes apparent.  
“Really now? You’re Dave? Last time I checked, Dave was a scrawny pale skinned human with an annoying tendency to engage in otherworldly musical “raps”. Now I haven’t heard you say more than one fucking sentence but you’re really an idiot if you think I wouldn’t recognize my own face from less than three fucking steps away.”

You were used to seeing him mad, so the drawing back of his lips over sharp teeth came as no big shock. 

“Dude, I can try to prove it to you I just need a moment to wrap my head around this okay?” And maybe it was in the way you called him ‘dude’ or the inflection in your voice, or maybe because you’d been stuck doing nothing but talking to each other on those stupid crab watches for the past year or so but his expression, thankfully, morphed from anger to confusion. 

“…Dave? Are you—is that really you?” 

“Yeah, man. If Eminem suddenly came over that intercom system begging the real Dave Strider to please stand the fuck up I’d be on my feet faster than that quick breath of air you need between lines in a sick verse. Except I’m already standing, so you’d have to give me a moment’s notice to sit down first. Or I could just stay standing and the rest of you could sit down… either works for me, man. Though I mean the likelihood that Eminem--” 

When he rolled his eyes, you shut your mouth, the half-smile crossing your lips feeling strange on muscles that weren’t used to expressing happiness. 

“Okay, no one I know in the entirety of this fucking mistake of a universe talks that much about things I don’t understand. I’ll accept that you’re Dave. Or, at least, I’ll accept that you’re so much like him in every way except for your hideous outer appearance that I’ll choose to ignore your blatant disrespect of my body in every way imaginable and for the love of all that is holy please put on some clothing!” 

You burst out into nervous laughter and he stands there, the corners of his lips twitching ever so slightly and when you pull him into a hug, he doesn’t fight it. It’s a far cry from anything resembling a tender embrace but at least he didn’t push you away. 

And that’s when your heart starts pounding in your chest and your mind starts spinning with yet another problematic discovery. 

You still haven’t peed. 

So you excuse yourself as politely as you can and return to the bathroom, snickering lightly at the expression on his face when he no doubt recalled how familiar you were with his genitals.

You take care of business properly this time, making sure to keep your touches light as you attempt to direct the stream into the toilet and, damn, how did this even work? 

You bit at your lower lip reflexively and immediately regret it, the sharp points on your teeth digging greedily into the flesh, the taste of copper quickly filling your mouth. You cursed yourself as the hot blood dripped down your chin and onto your chest, flowing slowly but steadily. These fucking teeth were so sharp you were surprised you hadn’t bitten your lip clean off. 

You slide the boxers back up over your hips, trying not to bleed all over the floor as you do so. You failed pretty miserably, even as you felt a familiar heat blossom, a sign that meant your lip was beginning to swell. You turn, once more to the mirror, and grab a towel, pressing it to your mouth. 

Red seeped out, quickly soaking through the rough fabric as your vision swam. No matter how often you saw it, that sickening color that brought back memories of missed marks and skinned knees in the ever-present, casual strifing with Bro, it never failed to twist your gut in the most nauseating way possible.

Three short, impatient knocks on the door pulled you out of memory lane with a wince.

“Strider! I know full well the capacity of my liquid sac, it shouldn’t take you that long! You’d better not be—be doing that—the— ugh!” 

The door opened with a snap. Apparently he had little to no qualms about walking in on you with your pants down. Though, frankly, you shouldn’t either. It wasn’t like it was your body, to use and abuse the way you had been, wounding and playing with it like it was some sort of rental car to drive and then return once you had saturated the seats with sufficient amounts of apple juice.

He didn’t finish his sentence though, his eyes locked on the crimson-stained towel you still held pressed to your lip, not that it was doing much good anymore, as saturated as it was and dear God, how much did you have to bleed? His face paled, mirroring yours before he stepped forward and removed the towel, examining your wound closely. 

“God fucking dammit, Strider, you haven’t had my body for two fucking hours and already there’s red everywhere. You are so fucking lucky you aren’t actually a troll or everyone would know what sick mutant blood dwells in those veins.”

You try and speak but his hands are on your lips, working to assess the damage as he curses you and your predecessors under his breath. 

“Mpppgghhh…”

“Shut up, Dave. You’re only going to hurt yourself even more because you obviously have to be coddled through every fucking thing and can’t even shut your face without risk of some serious injury like a tiny little grub. I can’t take my eyes off you for two moments without seriously being afraid for your health.”

He meant that as an insult, you knew, but the fact that he cared enough to even scathingly say he worried was a subtle, welcome change from his usual loathing attitude. Even when the two of you were hanging out and being bros together, drinking alchemized apple juice and playing hide-and-seek in Kanaya’s room, every other sentence was some sort of insult. Thinly veiled hatred for you that you’d accepted as part of being homies with a freaky and really grumpy alien. But, with his hands grossly in your mouth, fumbling to staunch the flow of blood with a smaller hand rag and complaining that he was worried about you… you began to realize that he might actually be something like… well, more than what you’d thought he was an hour ago. Hell, ten minutes ago he was screaming at you for slamming the monkey on his troll-dick. 

He moved your hand, technically his hand, back up to your mouth and pressed the towel there.

“Keep that there and keep the pressure on it.” He took a deep breath and crossed his arms, looking straight at you with raised brows and a look of concern in his eyes and you removed the towel to speak, prompting an eyeroll and a deep sigh from him.

“What are we gonna do about this?”

“Hell if I know, Strider! Do I look like the resident expert on gross body swaps and pizza rolls?”

“Wait… pizza rolls?”

He shrugs. “I’m hungry.”

“And so you decided to throw pizza rolls into an unrelated sentence in the hopes that I’ll become tempted and find you some god damn food?” He just sighs again and holds out his hands, raising his shoulders slightly, his expression challenging you to defy his logic. You really can’t help but sigh as well, “All right, all right. I’m in. Let’s go get some god damn pizza rolls.” 

==>

Too far away to bother measuring or even guesstimating the distance, a young blue-garbed boy sat playing with buttons on a machine. He quickly became bored, however, and sat back, sighing. 

“Well so much for adjusting my DNA! I really wanted that unicorn horn too… Looks like this machine is just a bunch of crap, just like everything else here.” 

Idly, he pressed a few more buttons before giving up completely and retreating to the back of the room, sitting down once more at his computer and staring numbly at the screen, lost in a gaming world. The ecto-device whirred softly but he paid it no mind. 

It wasn’t as if the machine actually did anything anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to afractionof for editing help!! :3  
> ((The prompt was suggested anonymously on my tumblr))


End file.
